


Harry Potter and the Signs of the Phoenix

by BrightSkywalker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 04:10:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19782979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightSkywalker/pseuds/BrightSkywalker
Summary: Summer after 2nd year, Hermione gives Ron some advice on using Muggle phones, and Ron gets to invite Harry and Hermione to Egypt with the Weasley family. Harry, happy to be with his friends and pay his way, is ecstatic. Little does he know what he will discover hidden beneath the sands, and how it will change the course of his life. No bashing. Ship undecided, but leaning Harmony.





	1. Prologue

_May 4th 1980_

The wind was howling like a horde of banshees through the streets of Hogsmeade, as Albus Dumbledore made his way to Hog's Head Inn. Holding his robes together with one hand, Albus mused that the wailing, though unseasonal, quite suited his mood, as well as the mood of Wizarding Britain at the moment.

Voldemort, or as Albus knew him, Tom Riddle, had spent the last decade consolidating his power. Both magically and politically. With coordinated attacks and using the resources of the pureblood families that flocked to his cause, Tom had managed to cower much of Magical Britain into a very half-hearted fight.

Albus's brainchild, the Order of the Phoenix, which represented the hope and light of goodness, had managed to rescue some people, but had failed in achieving any permanent victories of importance. Though many still stood tall, like the Potters and Longbottoms, many others had already fallen. The pain of their loss still stung Albus's heart. The Prewett brothers, the Bones family, the McKinnons, all lost to Tom's attacks. And every time, by the time Albus got there to try and catch Tom in a fight, and finally end it, Riddle was already gone, the Dark Mark hanging in the sky like a grinning malevolent calling card.

Everyone had asked Albus to end it, and he had tried, but Tom was no fool. Though powerful, Tom didn't want to risk a protracted engagement with Albus. Such a thing would allow the Order and Barty's Aurors to erect an anti-apparition/disapparition jinx to trap and overwhelm Tom with sheer numbers.

And so Riddle, as the avatar of all of Slytherin's worst aspects, used his cunning and connections to infiltrate the ministry from within. To begin to turn the press and populace slowly to his side. To change the weight of numbers and authority, so when Riddle decided to face Albus, he would be the one with backup.

And Albus had no way to stop him.

With Tom's prodigious Legilimency skills, no spy within the Death Eater ranks lasted long enough to matter. And the few times Albus thought he had succeeded in planting someone, that individual was found out and turned, via Imperius, into a double agent, costing many more lives. Albus had stopped trying.

But the truth was, without inside information, Albus had nothing. He had no way to cover the whole country from Tom's attacks, and no way to predict where the attacks would be targeted so as to place people there to protect the innocent, or catch the guilty.

And as the populace suffered, and the dissenting voices were silenced, the resistance was waning. Another year, two at the most, and Tom would win. The purpose of the Order of the Phoenix, to provide and inspire hope, was failing.

Albus, and by extension, the rest of Britain, magical and Muggle, needed a miracle.

There was one place, however, that was still safe. Hogwarts itself. Albus couldn't seek out Tom, but Tom would not attack Hogwarts either. Maybe because of Albus himself, or maybe because Tom still had as soft a spot as he could have for his first home.

Hogwarts and the students were safe, and to keep the school open, Albus needed to have enough teachers, which is why he was here on this a windy night. He had a candidate to interview.

Though she didn't have much in the way of good recommendations or references, Sybill Trelawney had a lineage. Descended from the famous Cassandra the Unerring, Albus hoped the gift had passed down in some way. Having a verified Seer on staff would certainly be useful, both to the school, and the Order, if he could convince her to join.

And so, despite his inclination to remove Divination from the curriculum, due to the nature of the course not being widely applicable to the vast majority of students, Albus decided to give her a chance.

As he approached the door to Hog's Head, Albus vainly hoped that Abe wouldn't give him too much grief today. Quickly casting a Notice-Me-Not charm on himself, and grasping his robes tightly around him, Albus opened the door to the inn and walked inside. The low murmur of conversation only ebbed for a moment as people turned to see who opened the door to the wind, but quickly resumed as the charm convinced people it was no one of importance. Albus paused for a moment to appreciate the warmth of the low fire, and found a mirror image of his own eyes staring back at him. Aberforth saw past the charm, and was glaring at him with a barely restrained fury, little diminished since the day Abe had broken Albus's nose decades ago.

Nodding his head quickly, Albus walked around and right past the bar to climb the stairs that led to the candidate's room, where the interview would take place. After a quick knock, and an answering call to enter, Albus entered room #7. A slim little waif of a woman stood to greet him, wearing enormously thick glasses that exaggerated her eyes severely. Wrapped in what some of his continental friends might call "gypsy garb", she seemed more like a muggle charlatan pretending to be a seer than an actual one. Albus always strived to not judge people by their appearance alone, but she was not making a good impression.

10 minutes later, he was even less impressed.

Albus knew of the reality of prophecies, and the fact that a hall of prophecies existed, but the rest of the subject of Divination was one that he found way too vague to be of any use. Unfortunately, Ms. Trelawney was living up to every stereotype of that subject. There was no way of verifying even one of the predictions she made, and nothing at all that would be even close to useful.

Some of Albus's feelings must have shown on his face, because Sybill became progressively more shrill and apocalyptic in her predictions as the interview went on.

There was a scraping sound outside the door, followed by the sounds of a scuffle. Albus stood suddenly, intent on checking for the cause of the sound, when Sybill, mistaking his motion for dismissal, cried "No, don't leave! I can See you are in grave dang…" before her eyes suddenly rolled back and with a grunting noise she stood and spoke with a harsh voice:

**"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...**

**born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...**

**and while the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, the phoenix will mark him as the champion…**

**thrice and thrice again will he then be marked…**

**once by the phoenix to survive the unsurvivable…**

**twice by the phoenix when returning to his world…**

**thrice by the phoenix in the serpent's abyss…**

**fourth by the phoenix to reignite the ancient light…**

**fifth by the phoenix when hope's light redeems the innocent…**

**sixth by the phoenix** **when the darkness is reborn…**

**seventh by the phoenix** **when True Love is embraced…**

**Seven times will he be marked before he holds the power the Dark Lord knows not...**

**and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...**

**the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."**

Albus stood transfixed.

That was real.

"…er! You are in grave danger Headmaster! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is coming for you! I see him!" cried Sybill, seemingly oblivious to her transcendental state of the past minute.

"I would really hope so" whispered Albus.

"What do you mean?!" gasped Trelawney.

"Because no one else would then get hurt." answered Albus. "As for your application… You are hired."

No one could know of this prophecy, and Sybill had to be protected, just in case she started remembering her trances. What other choice did he have?

"Really?! Oh thank you!... But of course I knew you would… No doubt in my mind. After all, I had Seen this long ago" exclaimed Sybill, quickly recomposing herself from her apparent shock.

"Of course my dear" said Albus kindly "Please feel free to head into the castle and seek out Minerva McGonagall, she'll help you settle in, and we will work out the details in the morning. I will see you tomorrow, good night."

While she bustled around to gather her belongings, Albus gathered himself and left the room, his mind analyzing the prophecy he just heard. His perfect recall allowed him to see Sybill pronounce it again and again, and though the overall meaning seemed clear, like all prophecies, it was vague enough to mean many things. Heading downstairs, he saw Aberforth motion towards the back office of the inn with a curt jerky motion of his head. Message understood, Albus headed there quickly.

Entering the back office, Albus saw a young man of about 20, with dark, lanky hair and pale skin laying on the floor, bound in conjured ropes. As the young man turned to look at him, Albus recognized him immediately. Severus Snape, the potions prodigy from Slytherin, who had graduated 2 years prior, and like many of his house, joined Tom as a Death Eater. With a jerk of his wand Albus unrolled Snape's sleeve, revealing the Mark underneath. With a look of pity, disgust and disappointment Albus looked into Snape's eyes and asked "What were you doing outside of that room?", while simultaneously probing his mind with a silent _Legilimens_.

"Nothing, I was simply walking by to get another room!" said Snape.

"You are lying, Mr. Snape." said Albus, clearly seeing in Snape's mind Tom's orders to gather information about Hogwarts. "Do you truly underestimate me so much you would attempt a blatant lie?"

"Fine..." answered Snape "I took the opportunity to find out something about you for the Dark Lord... Your time is nearly up Old Man. My Lord's victory is near at hand."

"That is yet to be seen, boy" answered Dumbledore. "Now what was that spell of James's that you were so fond of? Oh yes, _Levicorpus!_ "

Snape was jerked upward and hung by his ankles, with his face at head height with Albus. The only thing that kept Snape modest were the _Incarcerous_ ropes holding his robes around his body.

"Do your worst old man! That spell is mine, and one day everything of Potter's will be mine too!" yelled Snape, as his face was finally gaining color, albeit a bright red one as his blood rushed into his head.

"This spell may have been your invention, but like many of your decisions over the last several years, it has now been turned against you by your own foolish, arrogant and spiteful choices" answered Albus cooly. "What did you hear?" asked Albus, as he was again simultaneously probing Snape's mind to get the truth.

"I heard everything! The whole prophecy! You'll have to kill me if you don't want the Dark Lord to find out!" spat Snape at Albus. But Albus saw the truth in his mind. All Snape had heard was the very first sentence, before Aberforth caught, bound and stunned him.

Albus let Snape rant for a few minutes as he thought of what to do next. Should he release him? Was it worthwhile to allow Tom the knowledge that a prophecy existed at all? Albus was confident that he could protect Sybill in the castle, and only he knew the full prophecy.

He tried to foresee the plays.

The coming champion was already alive, possibly within the womb of one of two women he knew personally and well. Lily Potter and Alice Longbottom. Both were due to give birth in late July or the beginning of August... And both the Potters and Longbottoms had indeed 'defied' Tom three times in six different engagements, most recently when both James and Lily memorably gave Riddle the two-finger salute as they managed to escape a trap he had set for them when targeting Lily's parents.

The boy must be protected. But how?

Tom needed to be distracted from his plans. In his current pace, Tom would win well ahead of any chance for the boy to grow into whatever power he is supposed to have. The Potters and Longbottoms would perish just as the McKinnons and Prewetts did. If Albus imprisoned Snape, or even just wiped his memory, what would be gained? Nothing.

On the other hand, releasing Snape would allow Riddle to know of the existence of a prophecy... And what would be a greater distraction than a vague partial prophecy about a prophesied savior to battle him? Tom was obsessive. Any threat, or potential threat to his growing power would take first priority in his mind. Tom would stop at nothing to find out about the whole thing, which meant he had to do one of two things. Defeat Albus, or infiltrate the Hall of Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries. Even with all of Tom's current connections, that would take time. Time that would make Tom impatient, and cause him to make mistakes.

With all luck, Tom would be foolish enough to attack the castle to get at Sybill, just to get the rest of the prophecy. Albus could have the entire Order there in minutes with Sirius's communication mirrors.

Yes. This was the best option. He will secure Sybill in the castle, and hide away the Potters, Longbottoms and any other family that fit the parameters of the prophecy. With Tom driven to obsession by the pursuit for the prophecy, Albus and the Order could capitalize on any mistakes made by Riddle to turn the tide of the war. The value of prophecy as propaganda was also not lost on Albus. People believed in them, even when they didn't understand their true meaning.

Yes. This was the right thing to do.

Albus tuned back into the ranting and raving Snape, now quite purple, still yelling obscenities at him. With a thin smile, Albus released the _Levicorpus_ , allowing Snape to drop to the ground unceremoniously, smacking his face on the hard floor. As Snape was catching his breath, Albus released the ropes as well, allowing the boy to slowly rise to his feet.

"Run back to your master, boy... and let him know his days are numbered." Albus chuckled. "A true Seer is never wrong, and Tom will not win. Run back and lick his boots, silly child. You will never deserve Lily, especially as you continue this ill-thought quest for power through a master who does not share any... Run. You'll find your wand outside of the inn door, in the water barrel."

Snape appeared to fume for a moment, then considered his chances quickly before turning and running straight out of the door and out of the inn.

'There's quite a bit of work to do' thought Albus, as he walked out of the inn after nodding his thanks to Aberforth. 'If all goes well, the champion might not even be necessary' he thought 'maybe the power Tom knows not is the love of a family that would fight for the champion. After all, prophecies are vague things, and the "champion" might simply be a harbinger of victory for the Light'...

Little did Albus Dumbledore, the wisest and most powerful wizard of the age, know that he would be proven very wrong, yet again. And yet, he wasn't completely wrong. The little dark haired, green eyed boy born to James and Lily Potter on July 31st of 1980 would indeed bring a reprieve and salvation to Britain, but not in as neat a way Albus had hoped. Between July 31st of 1980 and Oct 31st of 1981 many turns would be taken in the war. Many things would happen.

Secrets. Mistakes. Betrayals. Sacrifices. Miracles.

And the legend of the Boy-Who-Lived would begin.


	2. Awakenings, Phone Calls and Owl Post

_Evening, October 31_ _st_ _, 1981 - somewhere in the Sahara Desert_

In a dark chamber, in a place not seen by human eyes for many millennia, a single green stone, set into an obelisk in the middle of the chamber, lights up. It exudes a soft light, gently caressing the whole chamber.

If there was someone there with eyes to see, they would have been able to note that the stone was set into a tall rectangular obelisk, about 7 feet tall and 5 feet wide. It was set into one of the tail feathers of what appeared to be a carving of a magnificent bird figure, wings outstretched. If one had to guess, they'd say the obelisk was carved from some kind of stone, but even an expert geologist would be hard-pressed to say what kind. It appeared to have a rough texture, yet was completely smooth to the touch, and shone as if polished perfectly. Its color was quite unusual as well, appearing to have colors from the entire spectrum of visible light on it, in swirls, like the surface of a soap bubble. The swirls were set in place, yet to the eye it would seem like they were constantly moving.

The faintly shining stone starts fading for a moment, before its light pulses brightly once more, and then settles into a level of radiance equivalent to a bright candle in the dark. As bright candles in the dark often do, it dispels the dismal darkness that had entombed the chamber for so long.

Some of the light appears to spread from the stone into the rest of the chamber, reinvigorating long dormant streams of light that are carved into the floor, walls and ceiling, bringing the room to life.

The streams of light run up the single leg of large round stone table set about 10 feet in front of the obelisk, causing the table's surface to glow. The swirls of color on the surface begin to move. An observer, if present, would see that the table's surface appeared to be shifting and changing to form a map of planet Earth. Then the swirls shifted more, as the green stream of light from the obelisk stone seemed to stop and form a pinpoint of light. This light point sat on the southern portion of a little island, off the northern coast of a large landmass in the northern hemisphere. There it stayed, pulsing in a regular rhythm, rather like a heartbeat.

_July 31_ _st_ _, 1991_

In a little shop in London, its storefront window displaying a wooden stick on a faded purple cushion, a young dark-haired boy waves a different stick, made of holly and containing a single special feather. A wave of red and gold sparks shoots out of the stick to leave spots of light on the wall, igniting the curiosity of the old shopkeeper.

At precisely that moment, a blue stone's light ignites in another tail feather of the bird obelisk, its light steady and sure. The bluish light joins the green streams already lit, to make the chamber glow just a touch brighter. The pinpoint of light on the stone table's surface has moved slightly north from its location of the past ten years. The blue light joins the green, and the pinpoint seems to alternate between the two shades as it continues to pulse rhythmically.

_May 29_ _th_ _, 1993_

In a different chamber, cold and dank, the dark-haired boy is lying on the ground, a deep puncture wound in his arm. A reddish, swan sized bird, with two long and golden tail feathers, lands next to him.

The green/blue pinpoint of light, now seeming to be much further north on the little island, is fading. Its light pulsing lower and lower by the second.

The red bird lowers its head, as if bowing to the boy, and three pearly tears fall from its dark yet luminous eyes. The three tears form a little pool, right over the puncture, and the malevolent specter taunting the boy watches the wound close.

A ruby-red stone, in the heart of the bird obelisk, blazes to life, its light bright enough to blind. The red light joins the green and blue rivers of light coruscating all over the room. The light joins the pinpoint on the table, its brilliance seeming to reinforce the previously fading star. The twinkling pinpoint returns to its rhythm, a red/blue/green pulse of life.

With the tail feathers and heart of the bird obelisk lit, the outline of the bird itself begins to change color, as if the carved grooves are slowly filling up with liquid gold. The obelisk begins to emit a low-pitched hum, which slowly builds to sound a tune that reverberates through the chamber, and beyond.

In a winding tunnel, ascending from the cold dank chamber, the red bird is flying up, carrying four people holding on to its tail. The red bird feels a call in the distance. A call that speaks of home, hope, and a blazing sun. The bird sings along, the memory of the notes welling up from the eternal memory stored in its very being. The humans, clinging on for dear life, feel a sense of joy, hope and light reverberate in their hearts (or is it their souls?), resonating to the sounds of an ancient melody.

The red bird knows that the time is coming. A time for the dark-haired human, currently holding on to its tail, to face his own fiery death.

_June 30_ _th_ _, 1993_

In the backseat of a rather nice car, leaving King's Cross station in London after another eventful school year, sat a 13-year-old girl with somewhat untamed brown hair, intelligent brown eyes, and a pensive look on her petite face. Sitting there quietly, Hermione Granger was doing what she did best; thinking. She knew her parents would have a lot of questions for her when they got home, and she was nervous about that, but it was something else that was worrying her at the moment. She couldn't get the last thing her friend, Harry Potter, had said to her before they parted ways for the summer holidays.

_["Your aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won't they?" asked Hermione as they got off the train and joined the crowd thronging toward the enchanted barrier. "When they hear what you did this year?"_

_Hermione was, of course, referring to Harry defeating the Basilisk and saving all its victims, including herself, from permanent petrification._

_"_ _Proud?" said Harry. "Are you crazy? All those times I could've died, and I didn't manage it? They'll be furious…"]_

Hermione couldn't stop turning that exchange over in her mind again and again. In the moment, she had dismissed his statement as hyperbole… But as her sharp mind began to analyze it again and compare it with what she knew of Harry's life, she wasn't quite sure what to think. Despite knowing him for the past two years at school, there was much she didn't know about him. Especially about his life with his remaining living family, the Dursleys. Though it was quite obvious they didn't really get along, Hermione wasn't sure to what extent that went.

Harry, she knew, was actually quite a private person. He despised attention, whether warranted or not, and would actively shy away from being in the limelight. 'The only times he didn't shy away was when he had to go and do something courageously, beautifully, stupidly heroic', she thought to herself with a slight smile.

As such, it was difficult to really know the details of his life before and outside of Hogwarts. But over the past two years, Hermione had been quietly cataloguing little clues she had picked up. Severely ill-fitting clothes. Constantly broken glasses. His small size for his age. His Christmas "presents" of a 50 pence piece and a toothpick. The little comments here and there from Harry about the amount of housework they had him do. Suddenly, she remembered the previous summer. Ron had told her that when he and the twins retrieved Harry from the Dursleys, they had to pry away bars on his window. At the time, she thought Ron was exaggerating, as he sometimes did to make a better impression of himself. But now, she was starting to doubt her previous assumptions.

Had she been blind? If the Dursleys would be happy for Harry to… die… What was life like for him in that house? Harry could be sarcastic, impulsive, and hot headed, but he was also the kindest and bravest boy she knew… She couldn't imagine anyone with a conscience being happy to see him dead. The very thought of Harry not being alive filled her with dread.

Hermione was well aware that she was blessed in many ways. Her parents, though busy professionals, had always made time for her. They always made sure that Hermione had all she needed, including support and love. They had raised Hermione to be responsible and considerate, attributes she had always prided herself on.

And now she felt woefully inadequate.

She was considering turning to her parents for help but reconsidered it. She needed to talk to Harry. Really talk to him, before involving anyone he didn't know. Asking a question about such a private matter made her nervous. What if he became upset with her, and didn't want to be her friend anymore? She wasn't sure she could survive school without his friendship. She remembered her first two months at Hogwarts with a shiver.

But what kind of friend would she be if she let him suffer in that house, if her suspicions were correct? Harry had saved her. From the troll in first year, and from the basilisk this past year. Against all odds, facing things much worse than a loss of friendship, Harry saved her. How could she do any less? She didn't think herself as brave as him, but she was still a Gryffindor!

Her resolve fortified, she decided to call him as soon as she arrived home. He had specifically asked her and Ron to call anyway, and so she would.

Her decision made, she turned her attention to her family. Her parents had let her stay quiet for quite a while, seeming content to let her be, but she quickly noticed some oddities. Her father, Richard, was driving, while her mother, Helen, was in the forward passenger seat, exchanging worried glances with him in a silent conversation.

"Mum, dad, I promise I'll explain everything I can when we get home" said Hermione. "I can see that you are worried… But before we talk about me, can I ask about how you've been?"

Momentarily pacified, Hermione parents went about telling her about the last few weeks since their last correspondence, and Hermione enjoyed the more relaxed conversation. Before too long, they were home. Her home in Heathgate was only 25-30 minutes away from King's Cross after all.

As her father was taking her trunk inside, Hermione ran into the house and called the number Harry had given her. After a few rings, the line picked up and a strident sing-song voice answered.

"Dursley home, Petunia speaking"

Harry's aunt, Hermione thought.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Dursley! I hope you are having a wonderful day" responded Hermione in as polite a tone as she could muster. "My name is Hermione Granger, and I was hoping, if it's not too much trouble, that I could speak with Harry please."

Hermione heard a sharp intake of breath before there was a long pause.

"Who are you?" asked Petunia in a slightly shaky voice.

Uncharacteristically acting on an instinctual hunch, Hermione replied "Oh, as I mentioned, my name is Hermione Granger, and I am a friend of Harry's from the boarding school you've been gracious enough to send him to. He has told me so much about your kindness and generosity. I wanted to take a moment to thank you for keeping my friend safe all these years. I'm sure it wasn't easy seeing your sister's eyes when you looked at him. It must have been terribly saddening." Hoping to appeal to Mrs. Dursley's self-image as an upstanding citizen, as well as avoiding the topic of magic altogether.

Hermione heard a slightly choked sound over the line before Petunia replied, "Well, we've done what we could for him. But he is not back yet. My husband, Vernon, is still retrieving him from London."

"Oh but of course!" exclaimed Hermione is her best posh voice "Silly me! Your family lives in Surrey, does it not? It would take quite a bit longer to get there than where we live in Central London… My sincere apologies Mrs. Dursley, I did not mean to waste your time when Harry is not home yet."

"Central London?! Your family lives in Central London? But that must cost a fortune!" exclaimed Petunia, unable to contain her shock that a girl who was obviously a witch lived in such an affluent area.

"Oh, both my parents are dentists Ma'am. Our family is quite blessed" answered Hermione.

"Dentists, you say?" asked Petunia. Hermione could almost imagine her shocked face.

"Well, they are both oral surgeons to be precise, so they handle more complicated patients, but the practice they own, and in which they employ several other practitioners, is certainly dentistry based" answered Hermione, hoping to help Petunia feel the need to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Oral surgeons? So, are they… Normal, then?" asked Petunia, clearly trying to be polite in her own way.

"Well, if you mean unable to use the same abilities that I can, then yes. My parents, however, have always taught me that all people are born with different gifts, and there no such thing as abnormal, just different." answered Hermione, trying to be polite despite essentially being called a freak.

"Oh certainly, certainly…" said Petunia hurriedly "I meant no offense to your parents or yourself"

"Oh, think nothing of it all, ma'am" replied Hermione "Could I please ask you to write down my phone number, so that when Harry arrives home, he'd be able to call me?"

"Certainly."

After reciting the number, and hearing Petunia writing it down (Hermione could hear the scratch of a pencil on paper), Hermione bid her farewell and ended the phone call.

Satisfied with how the conversation went, Hermione took a deep breath and readied herself for the next challenge. Her conversation with her mum and dad.

Gathering her Gryffindor courage once more, she headed to the living room, where she knew her parents would be waiting.

'Into the breach…' she thought as she went to face them.

_A short while later_

Uncle Vernon pulled up to 4 Privet Drive, and all Harry could think about, was that he hoped this summer would be better than last, or at least shorter. He was fervently hoping that Ron and Hermione would get in touch with him soon. Despite having left them only an hour and a half ago, he already found that he missed them terribly after the silent and tense drive from King's Cross to Surrey.

Uncle Vernon had communicated in grunts alone, and Harry thought that if not for the fact that he got to drive and show off his brand-new company car, Vernon might not have showed up at all.

Getting his luggage and Hedwig's cage out of the car, Harry hurried to get into the house as quickly as possible. He knew how much the Dursleys hated when his "Freakishness" was on public display. Petunia always seemed to assume that because she was nosy, then all of her neighbors were equally so. And so, thankful for Mrs. Weasley's last minute lightening charm on his trunk, Harry carried it all inside and directly upstairs in his "new" bedroom before Vernon or Petunia could think to tell him to put it in his old cupboard under the stairs.

As he came downstairs and into the kitchen to get a glass of water, he heard Petunia call "Boy!" from the phone nook. "Yes, Aunt Petunia?" he answered as he quickly made his way to her.

"There was a phone call for you a little while ago, a friend from your _school_ " she said, and at his bewildered look, explained "A polite young lady named Hermione who apologized for calling too soon… She left her phone number for you to call back. I don't know what you've told her about our family, but she has a good impression of us, and you better make sure it stays that way!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." replied Harry automatically, not sure he'd be able to articulate anything else. Hermione called before he was even home, and had managed to get on Petunia's good side, such as it was. 'Hermione, you brilliant girl!' thought Harry, as he thought of the next logical question.

"Aunt Petunia, does this mean that you'll allow me to call her back then? And maybe later as well?" he asked.

"There is not to be any talk of your _differences_ in this house, but otherwise, you may, as long as your chores are done" she replied, her expression a slightly less pinched version of her normal one when speaking with him.

Considering everything that Harry has ever experienced with the Dursleys, Petunia's response was actually reasonable… And she called his magic a _difference_? Harry was shocked, and tried hard not to show it on his face. How did Hermione do this?

"Thank you, Aunt Petunia!" he said, sincerely. On a hunch, he asked "Is there anything you need me to do right away? Or would it be alright if I call her back now?"

Petunia's eyes narrowed slightly… and Harry's breath caught.

After a moment, she said "go ahead and return her call, she was very polite, and it would be impolite to keep her waiting." Her face contorted into what some might call an attempt at benevolent grace and she said, "Once you're done, garden will need to be sorted out."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." He replied, nodding his head in sincere gratitude.

Petunia left him then, and Harry picked up the receiver and dialed Hermione's number as quickly as he could. A not insignificant part of him was worried Petunia would change her mind suddenly. Better to hurry and take advantage of her beneficence while it lasted.

On the second ring, a deep masculine voice answered, "Granger residence, this is Richard."

For some reason, Harry felt his mouth dry up… "Umm… Good afternoon sir. Can I please speak to Hermione?"

"Oh, well that depends…" said Richard, who Harry thought must be Hermione's father.

"Uhh… depends on what, sir?"

"It depends, young man, on who it is I am speaking to."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm Harry Potter"

"Well, which one are you? Sorry? Or Harry Potter?" replied Richard with a serious tone. If Harry had not been so nervous, he might have noticed that Richard's pronunciation of his name was a bit louder and more pronounced than the rest of his question.

Slightly dazed, and more than a little confused, Harry tried to think fast.

"Uhh, well… my name is Harry Potter, and I'm sorry for not introducing myself properly from the start."

"Ah… Well then, now that's all cleared up, I'll be happy to call Hermione for you" replied Richard. This proved unnecessary, however, as Harry could clearly hear the pitter patter of running feet and a whispered hiss of 'Daaaaaaaaad!'

"Here she is Mr. Potter, but before I go, I must tell you that you and I need to have a conversation very soon. Good day!" said Richard his tone a strange mix of jovial ominousness.

Harry swallowed involuntary, which was made difficult by his dry throat. What did Hermione's dad mean?

"Harry? Are you there?" called a voice he could recognize in his sleep.

"Hermione?"

"Oh Harry, I'm so so sorry… My dad thinks he's very funny, and thought to try and intimidate you as a joke… Har har…"

"Oh, so he isn't going to skewer me with questions?"

"Well, he might try, but I'll be there to restrain him in person" conceded Hermione

"Hermione, I'm not sure that I'm reassured… So, I can't believe I've never asked you, but your dad's name is Richard? And what's your mum's name?"

"Oh, yes, Richard and Helen, or Drs. Grangers to their patients."

"Is your mum as intimidating as your dad?"

"Not generally, but only because she is quite a bit more tactful about things. My dad, on the other hand, has a very honest and blunt approach to life. Comes from being in the military for a while."

"Well, now I'm even more intimidated…" said Harry with not quite feigned nervousness.

"Oh Harry, I promise I won't let him bother you too much."

"I would really appreciate it"

"Well, good. Now that's sorted, how was your drive home? I almost forgot you live in Surrey and it takes quite a bit longer to get there from the Express."

"Umm… It was fine…" said Harry, suddenly noticing that 4 Privet Drive got quite quiet. Were they listening?

"Well, that's good."

"Yeah, it was nice and relaxed… Like Fluffy without music."

There was a long pause.

"Well, that would certainly make for a relaxing drive after what you've been through this year."

"Yep, it was positively pleasant."

"I'm glad you're home safe, Harry. Do you think there is any chance that we could meet up this summer sometime? It would be great if we could work on our summer assignments together, or even with Ron, if he decides to grow a sense of responsibility."

"Well, I can certainly reach out to him with you-know-hoot… In fact, I'll send her your way first, so that way you can teach him how to use a telephone properly… Otherwise, who knows what he'll do…"

"You-know-hoot? What? Oh… Har har Harry… Are you trying to challenge my dad for the bad joke trophy?" chuckled a bemused Hermione.

"What? I really thought that was a clever bit of word usage!" exclaimed Harry with mock indignation. "She is to be respected and feared! Feared, I say!"

"Well, anyway, I'd certainly appreciate seeing her, and I'll make sure to write Ron a proper set of instructions."

"Thanks Hermione, you're a life saver."

"You're welcome Harry, but you saved my life first."

"That's not how I remember it…" Harry said with a bit of guilt "If I had stood up for you more, you wouldn't have been in danger in the first place."

"Harry, don't. You weren't the one berating me. You're the one that jumped on the back of the troll… And if I could forgive Ron, then I would certainly forgive you."

"Thank you, Hermione… That's been weighing on my conscience for a bit…"

"No thanks needed Harry, we are way past even."

"Well, alright. If you say so."

"I do. And that's final." said Hermione with mock seriousness.

"You're still bossy though…" teased Harry.

"Hrmph… just you wait Potter… I'll show you bossy." She replied, "and when will you send our snowy friend?"

"Probably this evening… It'll do her good to fly free for a bit"

"Well alright then, you'll mail me, then I can send her to Ron, and he can call you properly."

"Right, sounds like a plan! I'm so glad we're able to make this work… Thanks again Hermione"

"No problem Harry, and thank your gracious Aunt for me, she was quite nice when I spoke with her earlier."

"Sure thing Hermione. Bye"

"Bye Harry"

Harry hung up the receiver. For a minute there, he felt like a completely normal boy, having a normal conversation with a friend. Harry wondered if that's how everyone felt all the time, and whether they appreciated that simple action.

"Thank you, Aunt Petunia!" said Harry loudly "Hermione asked me to thank you for your graciousness over the phone earlier!"

Coming from around the corner, Petunia replied "It's only politeness. Be sure that you remember to be polite always. Now get to the garden."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

For the next hour and a half, Harry tended to the garden. His herbology classes, and Neville's example, served him well, and he was done with the work in half the time it would have taken otherwise, despite not being able to use a wand. He didn't even mind the work. A smile began on his face that wouldn't go away. He'll be able to talk to his friends, on a regular basis! Maybe even meet up with them! It wasn't quite like being back at Hogwarts, but it was such a huge improvement over last summer, that he felt like he won the lottery.

After the garden work was done, Harry headed inside to wash up, and to start preparing dinner. He knew Dudley would be home soon from hanging out with his gang, and would need to be fed… Which meant he had to prepare the trough…

The work of cooking and cleaning up after, took another hour, and by the time Harry could go upstairs, the sun was setting. He sat down at his rickety desk, and by the light of the sunset composed letters to Hermione and Ron. To Hermione, his note read:

_Hermione,_

_Sorry I had to be vague. I think they might have been listening. The drive back to Privet Drive was tense. I felt like if I said anything at all, Uncle Vernon would have thrown me out of the car… While it was still moving…_

_Speaking of tension…_

_How did you do it? How did you defuse my aunt? How did you manage to get on my aunt's good side? I didn't even know she had one!_

_Oh, and let's arrange to meet up next weekend! Leaky Cauldron?_

_Thanks again,_

_Harry_

To Ron, his letter was one inquiring about the family, Ginny's well-being, and a warning to absolutely, positively, obey Hermione's instructions about telephone use, as otherwise, Harry would be in serious trouble.

Satisfied, Harry rolled up both letters and tied them to each of Hedwig's legs. Giving her a bit of bacon he had nicked from dinner, he told her "Go to Hermione first, and then wait for her to write her letter to Ron. Once she's done take both mine and Hermione's letters to Ron at the Burrow. Do you understand?"

Hedwig tilted her head and blinked at him, her expression clearly saying 'Do you think I'm stupid? What am I, a toad? Of course, I understand!' before grabbing the piece of bacon and flying out of the window into the evening sun.

Harry watched her go with a smile.

"You clever girl."

This summer might just be the best one yet.


	3. Ch. 2 - Departures, Apologies and arrivals

Ch. 2 - Departures, Apologies and arrivals

The following week was a bewildering one for Harry.

Unlike the previous summer, Uncle Vernon did not force him to lock all of his school supplies in his old cupboard, though Petunia made it clear in no uncertain terms that magic was not to be used around the house. But he was allowed to keep it all upstairs with him, so he didn't have to use the lock-picking skills he had learned from Gred and Forge in order to be able to get started on his summer assignments. And good thing too, as the list was rather long, especially with Snape's essay about Shrinking potions. Harry was very concerned about Snape punishing him with detention in the dungeons if the essay was poorly written.

Hermione and Harry talked on the phone in the evenings, while the Dursleys were watching TV after supper. And while Harry had to be careful, just in case Petunia decided to listen in, he still felt better than he had last summer, when he was cut off from his friends by a well-meaning elf in addition to the Dursleys.

They would also correspond via Hedwig as well, in order to fill in any gaps they couldn't speak aloud, and it was in their letters to each other that Harry learned of Ron and Hermione's 'practice' phone calls. Apparently, when Ron received Harry and Hermione's warnings, he took them to heart, and suggested that he and Hermione call each other first, so Ron had a few rounds of practice before calling Harry. After all, the Grangers were quite a bit more forgiving than the Dursleys would be.

It was that Thursday evening when Ron finally called. It just so happened that Vernon had risen from the sofa to grab something and was passing by the phone nook when the phone rang.

"Vernon Dursley speaking" he answered.

"Good evening Sir!" Harry heard Ron reply, as he was waiting around the corner for this exact reason. "My name is Ron Weasley. Can I please speak to Harry?"

Unexpectedly, despite a quick intake of breath giving away slight surprise, Vernon responded with "Sure, hold on a moment" before calling for Harry.

"Boy!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" said Harry as he rounded the corner to see Vernon's massive palm covering the phone.

"Someone needs to speak to you here… How many people have you given this number to?" asked Vernon demandingly.

"Just two people, Uncle. Ron and Hermione, my friends from Ho- from school sir." answered Harry in as a polite a tone as he could muster, hoping that Vernon does not find that to be a problem.

Harry waited with bated breath as Vernon examined him, apparently trying to determine if Harry was lying.

"I swear boy, if you start giving this number to every freak from your kind, you'll be out of this house so fast your head will spin."

"I won't, Uncle"

"Be sure that you don't. And don't spend too long on the phone. It costs money."

"Yes, Uncle"

Harry was stunned. By Vernon standards, this sort of questioning and interrogation was positively cordial and appropriate.

Vernon handed Harry the receiver and headed off back to the living room. Harry took it in a bit of a daze and quickly said, "Ron?"

"Harry! Mate! How are ya?! I can't believe that worked! It took me ages with Hermione to figure out I didn't need to yell to be heard! You doing alright? Are they treating you well this time around? Did they put bars over your window again?" exclaimed Ron in a rush of words.

"It's good to hear from you Ron, how's your family? Is Ginny doing alright since coming back from school? And no, definitely nothing like last summer."

"Oh, the family is doing great, but yeah Ginny is having a bit of a hard time. I think she still has nightmares… She even wakes me up sometimes. Actually, I have some good news! My dad just won the Daily Prophet Grand Prize! It's 700 galleons! I heard mum and dad talk about it, and we're going to see my oldest brother Bill in Egypt. They think it'll also be good for Ginny. She misses him a lot, and dad reckons it'll be good for her to take her mind off of everything."

Harry felt a strange mixture of emotions. He was happy for the Weasleys. Nobody deserved a nice surprise as much as they did. But he also felt slightly guilty. He might have noticed the things that were going on with Ginny if he hadn't been so mortified by that stupid Valentine's Day incident.

"Ron, will you tell Ginny I'm sorry?"

"What're you on about?"

"We were almost too late. I should have noticed what was happening to her earlier."

"Harry, you're my mate, but you're mad. If it's anyone's fault it's us, her brothers… Mum and dad were glad to have us home, but my dad took us boys out to his shed and… well… I've never felt so bad in my life. He asked us why we never checked with her to see how she was doing. How we never looked out for our little sister. You should have seen Percy's face. Dad really laid into him. Mind you, I felt terrible too. Ginny didn't have anyone at school this past year other than Looney Lovegood."

"Who's that?"

"Oh, her name's actually Luna and she's one of the few of our neighbors here at Ottery St. Catchpole who is not a muggle. She's in Ginny's year. Actually, if mum heard me call her Looney, I'd get my ears boxed. She and her dad live over the hill from us. But anyway, they're not important. What's important is that we get to talk! You know, I didn't think I'd like this fellytone, but I've got to hand it to the muggles, this is pretty convenient!"

"It's a telephone, Ron... And yeah, there's actually quite a few things that muggles have that are pretty cool…" started Harry.

"Alright, alright! I just said so, haven't I? No need to turn into Hermione. I get enough from her harassing me to start my summer assignments every time we talk on the teeleefon" said Ron teasingly with a hint of exasperation. "Doesn't she realize that summer has just begun?"

Privately, Harry thought that Hermione had a point, the earlier one finished one's work, the earlier one could relax stress-free, but on the other hand, summer HAD just begun.

"You may be right that summer just started, but the assignment from Snape is a monster one, so I wouldn't put it off forever, especially if you'll be on vacation. So, you're going to visit Bill, is he your brother that is the curse-breaker for Gringotts? Why is he in Egypt?"

"Well, where do you think the Goblins get their gold mate? Curse breakers like Bill go and find it in ancient tombs and such."

"Oh, I thought they dug it up… Like mining and stuff."

"Well, maybe some, but I reckon that to the Goblins, raiding a vault is easier than digging it up."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

"You know what, why don't you ask the Dursleys if you can come? I know mum and dad would love to have you, especially after what you did for Ginny, and you don't eat that much, so it probably wouldn't even cost them much out of the prize money."

"What? Me in Egypt with your family? And I won't let them pay for it anyway..."

"Yeah why not?"

"Ummm… Well, I guess I don't see why not. Maybe the Dursleys would be happy to have me out of the house this summer. When is your family going to be leaving?"

"Mum and Dad said it would be a couple of weeks before we can arrange the transportation for all of us, but maybe you can come to the Burrow for a while before we leave?"

"That'd be brilliant! Yeah, let me ask my aunt and uncle, and I'll let you know with Hedwig!"

"That'd be amazing! Maybe we can play Quidditch again!"

"Yeah, let me find a way to ask them. It might take a few days, but I'll let you know soon."

The conversation done, Harry said his goodbyes and hung up.

The next couple of days, Harry worked really hard to get all of the chores done that he knew his aunt would ask him to do, before she even asked. He even neglected his homework, as he reckoned he'd get it done at the Burrow, if the Dursleys agreed to his request. The only time he didn't spend on making 4 Privet Drive pristine was spent on the phone with Hermione, who's phone connection was permanently in her home (not jury-rigged in Mr. Weasley's shed), during which time he told her about Ron's idea.

After spending Friday and Saturday tackling everything that he could, he woke up Sunday morning to a Privet Drive that couldn't be cleaner and went about making the breakfast he knew they all liked.

After they had woken up, had their breakfast and were settling down to relax in the living room, Harry finished tidying up after breakfast and came out of the kitchen, to stand in front of his aunt and uncle. Vernon was busy reading his Sunday paper and Petunia reading a housekeeping magazine she enjoyed as Dudley was sitting there watching his favourite Sunday morning cartoons.

Petunia noticed him first.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Umm, well, I was hoping to ask if I'd... Well, maybe the best way to say it is that... Ummm" Harry stuttered. After living with the Dursleys for so long, Harry knew that asking for anything of the Dursleys was usually a recipe for disappointment, and so he had a real hard time even coming up with a way to ask the question. After all, he had very little practice.

"What is it? Spit it out!" demanded Vernon, now paying attention to the conversation with an annoyed look as he was interrupted from his Sunday ritual.

"Well, my friend's family's going on vacation, and they've invited me along, and I was hoping to get your permission to go with them. It would be for almost the whole summer." Harry explained.

A long moment passed as Petunia and Vernon looked at each other, apparently communicating without speaking. He wasn't sure though what went on between them though... At that moment, Harry was struck by the fact that despite everything else, his aunt and uncle were a married couple and got along famously... It must have been their complimentarily horrid personalities, he thought.

"Need our permission to leave now, do you?" asked Vernon menacingly, causing Harry's train of thought to freeze in fear. "It didn't stop you last summer, did it? Do you know how much damage that flying monstrosity caused, ripping out parts of our wall?"

Harry swallowed back an angry retort and tried to think of a way to salvage the situation, but he was coming up empty, as his ire kept overriding any calming thoughts. After all, it wasn't his fault Vernon had put up those bars!

"I'm sorry sir." He mumbled, doing the only thing he could think of to defuse the situation, while trying to hide the tone of insincerity in the apology.

"Well, Vernon, our home is fine now, and having him out of here sooner rather than later would not be such a bad thing. Think of all the time this past year we didn't have to worry about coming home to a burned down house." said Petunia. "And the house is in as perfect an order as I want at the moment. It'd be best to keep it that way by getting him to be away." said Petunia.

Harry felt conflicting emotions. On the one hand, his aunt sounded like she was leaning towards allowing him to go. But on the other, she gave him no credit for the house being in "perfect order", and she made it sound as if he was the one that was always at fault when it came to anything being out of place in the house. Considering he was the one to clean it most often, other than Petunia herself, she and Harry both knew that it was the two resident walruses that were the mess-makers.

'Uncle Vernon actually looks torn' thought Harry as he watched his uncle weighing Petunia's argument. Vernon looked both annoyed and elated at the same time. Annoyed at Harry for possibly enjoying something, and elated that Harry would be away.

After what seemed like 15 minutes (but was only 1), Vernon seemed to have made a decision.

"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to have him gone. No more needing Mrs. Figg to look after him... And definitely don't want a repeat of Dudley's 11th birthday. We'll do it your way Pet." said Vernon to Petunia before turning to Harry.

"We're not paying for anything, do you understand?" he barked at Harry.

"Of course not, sir." replied Harry quickly.

"Alright. You may leave. When will this be?"

"Just about 8 days or so, Uncle, but I'm trying to see if it can be earlier."

"Alright, see to it that all your chores are done before you leave, and none of your freakishness is on display in your remaining time here, and you'll be free to go."

"Thank you, Uncle Vernon, and thank you Aunt Petunia!" said Harry, this time fully sincerely.

"Hmph, now go away" replied Vernon.

Harry wasted no time and ran upstairs to his room. Hedwig had had a few hours of shuteye after her early morning hunt, and so Harry quickly penned two notes, one to each of his friends letting them know of his success in receiving permission. Now that the part of him that had doubted that this would succeed was mollified, Harry thought of a problem. He actually did need money. He quickly added a PS to Ron, asking him if his dad, Arthur, could provide some advice on how Harry could get to Ottery St. Catchpole without a flying car, as well as if they could make a trip to Diagon Alley to visit Gringotts. He then added a PS to Hermione too, asking her if they could meet up at Diagon Alley before the Weasleys plus Harry left on the trip.

"Another trip for you, beautiful" Harry said to Hedwig as he tied the missives to her legs. "You know where, right?"

Hedwig looked at him with a slightly haughty expression, as if saying, 'haven't we been through this already? Of course, I know.'

"Alright, alright, no need for that look. Off you go" said Harry to his owl as he let her fly out of the window.

"I can't believe this is actually going to happen." he said in wonder to no one in particular.

Hermione Granger was conflicted. And it was all because of Harry's latest letter.

When Harry had initially told her of Ron's wild idea, she had a hard time believing it would happen, but she didn't want to discourage Harry. After all, a "family" that puts bars on windows isn't likely to be so keen to allow Harry to leave for an extended period.

But there it was, in ink on parchment, "they're allowing me to come!" said Harry's letter.

And now Hermione felt guilt. On the one hand, she had not seen her mum and dad for a year, and their idea to visit southern France sounded truly wonderful. But on the other, Ancient Egypt! And from the wizarding perspective! Some of her light reading over the last few years had been about the wizarding communities around the world, with Egypt being among the most ancient. What if she went with the Weasleys as well? Paying her own way of course, but still... The lure of knowledge was strong, and on top of that, she would be with her friends.

In fact, it would give her the perfect opportunity to speak to Harry in person about the concerns she had on her mind the day she came back home for summer.

'Maybe I can talk to mum and dad about moving our vacation destination...' she thought. 'Maybe we can explore Egypt from both the muggle side and the magical side! They do love France, especially considering grand-maman Elise only passed a few years back, but maybe I can suggest Egypt as an alternative...'

When she had received Harry's letter, Hermione had asked Hedwig to stay for a bit, in case she needed to write to Ron before Hedwig flew to the Burrow, and now she was glad she had.

"Hedwig, would you mind terribly waiting just a little while longer? I need to speak with my parents, and the outcome would determine what I'll be writing to Ron in just a bit." asked Hermione. Hedwig looked at her for a moment before stretching her wings and then tucking her head right under, seemingly taking a nap.

Thankful for the clever owl, and her mind made up, Hermione made her way downstairs to talk with her parents. Even if they weren't willing to change their minds, it was worth a try, and at the very least she did want to arrange to meet Harry and Ron at Diagon before they left.

Harry was elated. This summer was going amazingly well so far. In fact, it was going so well that a paranoid part of him was worried that it wouldn't last, but the slowly growing optimistic part of Harry thought that surely all of Harry's bad luck had been used up in the last few years. Voldemort. Then the spirit of young Voldemort with a giant poisonous snake for a pet. Surely the universe wouldn't find a way to mess with him even more... Not so soon after his last life or death encounter.

Mr. Weasley had picked him up the very next day after Harry's request was granted by the Dursleys. Mr. Weasley came by around teatime and helped Harry pack exceedingly quickly. With a quick goodbye to the Dursleys, Mr. Weasley introduced Harry to Harry's second least favorite form of magical transport. Apparition. The squeezing feeling he felt reminded him very much of what it would have been like to be squeezed to death by the basilisk...

But it was over in a flash, and Harry arrived at his second favourite place in the world after Hogwarts itself, the Burrow. The house looked as physically impossible as the last time that he was here, and Harry couldn't help the smile that formed on his face as he remembered the previous summer.

Harry and Mr. Weasley walked towards the house in a relaxed silence, as Mr. Weasley put his finger to his lips in a shushing motion, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 'Always wondered where Fred and George got that look from' thought Harry as he nodded to Mr. Weasley that he understood. Mr. Weasley entered the back door of the house that led directly to the large kitchen/dining room with a flourish proclaiming loudly "Hello Weasleys! Look who I found outside that some kneazels must have brought to our doorstep!"

Standing at the doorway sheepishly, Harry smiled as he was greeted with the slightly shocked faces of 6 red heads and one brunette, before there was a loud racket as a bunch of chairs were pushed back and the whole clan (plus Hermione) rushed to hug him and herd him inside, all while the twins were yelling "We got Potter! We got Potter!".

Harry felt a strange emotion then. Though the Weasley family was all hugging him at the same time, and in many ways, he felt just as squeezed as he did during apparition, he didn't feel scared or annoyed at all. He felt... really, really happy.

As the family slowly let go to allow him to join them at the dinner table, he noticed two pairs of smallish arms still hugging him. Both hugging him very tightly. One hug, he recognized as Hermione's. Harry looked at her quizzically, as if to ask how she was there, and she mimed 'later' to him, as she pointed with a look at the owner of the other pair of arms... Looking down slightly he saw Ginny, her eyes slightly wet, holding on to him.

"Hi Ginny, you alright? Doing better?" asked Harry quietly, as to not embarrass her. He knew what it was like to have nightmares... Nightmares he knew were based on reality, not just childhood fears.

"Hi Harry" she squeaked slightly, as she blurted out "Yes... No... A little bit. Oh I'm so sorry for everything!

"You've got nothing to be sorry for Ginny... He fooled me too. I'm the one who should be sorry, I should have noticed what was going on with you..."

"No! It wasn't your fault! It couldn't be. You saved me, even though Hermione was petrified because of me... Oh I'm so sorry Hermione!" Ginny sobbed quietly, now hugging Hermione too.

"Oh Ginny, please don't cry. Harry is right. Everyone in the castle was fooled. Please don't blame yourself. And please, if you ever need to talk, to another girl, about anything, I want you to know I'll always be here for you, alright?" asked Hermione of the teary-eyed girl.

Ginny nodded into both Hermione and Harry's shirts, and said "Thank you. Both of you. Ron told me what you both did. I wouldn't be alive if not for you both" she said, gradually calming her sniffles.

"Don't worry 'bout it, and Ron deserves a bit of credit too" said Harry, now very self-conscious. "Let's all sit down and enjoy your mum's supper."

The three sat down, with Harry being flanked on the left and right by Ron and Hermione respectively, with Ginny on Hermione's right.

The meal was fantastic, and Harry allowed himself to bask in that feeling of… What would he call this? It felt like he wasn't a burden to anyone, and that the people around him actually liked that he was there. Like he belonged. Yes, that's it, this feeling of belonging that he felt when around the Weasleys and Hermione. 'I think this is what it must feel like to have a real family' he thought, as his heart felt buoyed by some other indescribable feeling.

The evening passed with a boisterous joy typical of a Weasley dinner, and before Harry knew it, it was time for bed. As everyone headed for bed, Harry excused himself and sat down with a cup of cocoa in the living room, enjoying the cozy feel of the sofa. A moment later, Ron and Hermione joined him.

They sat there for a while in companionable silence, just enjoying being there.

Harry glanced at his friends.

Ron, his first friend in school. The boy who, despite everything, followed Harry down through Fluffy's trapdoor. Ron, who beat McGonagall's chess set. The one who stood up to bullies even if it caused him to vomit slugs. The one who followed him down into the Chamber of Secrets. Who almost paid the price of his mind being gone like Lockhart's now was. Is a person even really themselves if they have no idea who they are and where they come from? Harry didn't have many real memories of his parents, but he couldn't imagine losing any memory of one's family.

He then looked at Hermione, the one who had solved Snape's riddle, the one who solved the mystery of the basilisk, the one who was petrified for two months… Ginny wasn't the only one who escaped death by the skin of their teeth. If Hermione hadn't been carrying that mirror, she would be dead… Like Moaning Myrtle. Harry's heart gave a lurch. He couldn't imagine Hermione's inquisitive, kind, bright brown eyes being shut forever.

"Thank you" he said quietly.

Ron and Hermione turned their heads to look at him.

"Both of you… For everything you've done. For everything you've risked. I feel like a right berk for dragging you both into trouble all the time."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other for a moment, before starting to chuckle.

"Oh Harry, you didn't drag me to anything. Did you make me brew the Polyjuice, for example? No. That was my decision." said Hermione. "I may not like breaking the rules, but there are occasions that call for it. And I'd gladly do it again for you two. You are my friends…"

"She's right. I'd do it all again too. Just like I know you'd do for us." added Ron.

"I guess I would too…" said Harry "Although I think that if had a second try, I'd do things a bit differently…"

"Right?" said Ron. "I definitely would not want to become Crabbe and Goyle again…"

"As much as I like cats, I don't think I'd want to become one again either" added Hermione.

"Actually" said Harry "I was thinking that I shouldn't have waited until the troll to become your friend Hermione…"

Hermione beamed at him, her toothy grin causing him to smile in return.

"I reckon I would try to not be such a brat m'self" added Ron, suddenly looking a little guilty. "I'm sorry Hermione… I'm not sure if I ever told you…"

"Oh boys!" exclaimed Hermione "Your actions always speak louder than your words… And though the words are nice to hear too, I forgave you both ages ago! Speaking of which… Ron, I owe you an apology, and while we are at it… I need to ask you both something…"

"What would you need to apologize to me for?" asked Ron, the surprise clear in his voice.

"For doubting you" replied Hermione, her eyes slightly downcast now.

"What d'you mean?"

"When you told your family, and later me, about how you and the twins rescued Harry from the Dursleys last summer, I thought you might have been exaggerating how bad it was." she answered.

"Why would you think I'd do that?" asked Ron, his own guilt forgotten momentarily, as his ire rose and his cheeks and ears flushed slightly.

"I'm sorry Ron… I know I shouldn't have, and it's why I'm apologizing now, but I thought that maybe you were making it sound bigger because you like to feel… well… like you did something amazing. And you did do something amazing" she emphasized "taking the initiative to rescue Harry like you did… And I'm so, so, sorry I underestimated you." she said, the regret in her voice clear to Harry's ears.

Harry watched Ron quietly, not wanting to interrupt. He watched as the color of Ron's ears and cheeks went back to their normal pale selves. Ron seemed to be deep in thought for a few moments. If Harry had to guess, he'd say that Ron's sense of guilt was warring with his self-esteem.

Ron finally looked up at Hermione, a slight smile on his face. "Well… I can't be really mad at you after just saying that I was berk to you and almost got you killed by a troll… And it's nice to hear that you think I did something amazing…"

Hermione beamed at Ron with that same toothy grin, and Harry let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in.

"Hermione… How come you're here anyway?" asked Harry. "I didn't realize you'd be here when Mr. Weasley picked me up."

"Oh, well, after hearing that my two best friends in the world were going to Egypt on vacation, I had to talk to my parents… And guess what?! They agreed to go to Egypt too!" she exclaimed.

"Really?!" said Harry and Ron in unison.

"Yes, though originally, we were going to go to France, as it's a family favourite, I convinced them to visit somewhere new instead. And although they wanted to visit some of the muggle archaeological sites as well as the wizarding ones, I'd definitely be able to meet with you there at least a few times." She said, the excitement evident in her face.

"That's wicked!" said Ron. "Bill has been in Egypt for a few years now, and he's right savvy with both the magical side of things as well as the muggle… You'll see when you meet him. He can show us all around!"

"I honestly couldn't be more excited. Your dad told me that he would take me and Harry to Diagon tomorrow, to retrieve some money for the trip, as well as to get some supplies and then when the arrangements are made, we would all travel together magically… My parents were skeptical, but the prospect of not spending any money or time on air travel convinced them."

Harry could feel a resurgent bubbling of happiness coursing through him.

"Ron? Hermione? I think this might become the best summer I've ever had"

The next week or so passed without incident, as Harry, Hermione and Ron enjoyed the summer both as a group and apart. Hermione would be by every few days, but had spent some time with her parents, as she had not seen them all year.

Harry and Ron, in the meantime, had a blast playing Quidditch, Gobstones, Exploding Snap and other magical games in between doing some chores (like the daily gnome clearing) and working on their school assignments.

Before they knew it, the day came a week and a half later when Mr. Weasley announced that he has secured an international Portkey reservation for all of them, and they'd be leaving the following morning.

Meeting the Grangers at the Leaky Cauldron, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley went about shrinking and lightening all of the luggage into miniature suitcases that would fit in the respective owners' pockets, and then guided them to the entrance of the ministry of magic, where the international Portkey was awaiting to take them to Luxor, the main hub of the wizarding community in Egypt.

Shortly before 12pm GMT, Mr. Weasley instructed everyone to put their hands on a rather large and ornate model of a pyramid, and as the clock struck 12, Harry, the Grangers and the Weasleys all felt themselves lifted off into a whirlpool of color, on their way to a forgotten world.

A/N Hello everyone!

I won't bore you with excuses, as that is not why you are here :) I'm very sorry this update took forever... The life of an old pre-med student is a non-stop rollercoaster. But anywho, this chapter is a bit of a deep breathe before the plunge into the meat of what this story will become. After some reflection, I've made some adjustments to my characterizations, and I hope they will ring true. As always, I'm open to feedback.


	4. Brothers, Fathers, and Desert Promises

_Luxor, Egypt_

Nothing could have prepared Harry for this. The worst he had ever experienced was when Petunia made him do the gardening in summer, but this was altogether different.

The heat.

Everything was perfectly fine at first… When the Weasleys, Grangers, and the lone Potter landed at their destination in the British magical embassy in Luxor, Harry found himself in a rather comfortable environment. High walls and ceilings made of softly shining white stone, the ceilings depicting scenes of a lightly cloudy day which reminded him of the ceiling of the Hogwarts Great Hall, all came together to give Harry the impression of an absolutely perfect British summer day. After gathering themselves, the British group left the building, following Bill, Ron's older brother, towards where they would be staying. And though the sky outside was just as bright blue, and slightly cloudy, it was then that Harry finally understood what people meant by "desert heat".

As soon as he walked outside, he felt a wave of hot, dry air rush over him. It felt like he was standing in front of Petunia's oven, the blast of hot air almost strong enough to singe his eyebrows.

The whole group, except for Bill, started sweating profusely. With a look at all of them, Bill smiled a small commiserating smile, and offered everyone a Cooling charm. The Weasleys accepted immediately, and the Grangers too, once Hermione explained the charm to her parents. As Bill cast the charm on all of them, Harry felt as if a cool breeze had blown and pushed all the heat away, and kept it away too. As he looked around to see everyone's reaction, he caught Hermione's eyes widen and then stare at Bill with a look of wonder, and she blushed slightly when she realized Harry caught her look. 'Wow… that's a lot of power' she mimed, and Harry, who could read Hermione's lips through years of practice, could do nothing but nod back with his own eyebrows raised. It took a lot of power to cast a charm on a group of 10 people, and having the effects last.

Harry thanked Bill, who shrugged it off good-naturedly. Harry was surprised by Bill in many ways. When Ron originally told Harry of his older brothers, he had told of Bill having been the Head Boy at Hogwarts, and so Harry had assumed that Bill would be similar to Percy. Studious, hard-working, but an even bigger stickler for the rules than Hermione was normally. But Bill was nothing like that in any way Harry could see.

He was tall, like Percy and Ron, but rather less lanky. A bit of a cross between Ron and the twins. His Weasley red hair was long, rakishly long, and the long part of the ponytail that was peeking from under his white turban, was a dark shade of red that reminded Harry of Fawkes in his prime. A shiny color that seemed to have a subtle sheen in the Egyptian sun. His face was heavily freckled, but it seemed like he had also actually managed to develop a bit of tan in his time in the desert. He seemed to have taken on the manner of the locals in ways other than the turban too. Long billowy pants, and a loose white shirt decorated in really colorful twirling designs seemed rather more comfortable in the desert heat than the normal British clothes the rest of the group was wearing. The only part of Bill's appearance that didn't match either British or Egyptian dress was an earring he wore that looked like a long fang of some sort. Harry wondered what kind of animal that fang had come from. And if his appearance was different than what he expected, then Bill's personality was even more so.

He seemed rather easy going, having a smile for everyone he met, and his interactions with the Grangers indicated that he was no stranger to interaction with Muggles at all. He seemed to be patient with them, happy to explain anything the Grangers had questions about (the stream of questions was constant, and Harry could see where Hermione got her curiosity from), but not condescendingly so. And the fluent way he spoke the local language with the Egyptian wizards they had passed by, seemed to suggest that Bill actually made an effort to get along with everyone they met there. In fact, it seemed like Bill had spoken two different foreign languages to the different wizards! He was clearly intelligent, magically powerful, and competent in general, if what Harry had heard about the curse-breaking profession was true. Yet he didn't seem full of himself at all. Despite how… well, cool, he was, Bill didn't seem to rub it in anyone's face. For some reason, Harry thought of his visions of 17 year old Tom Riddle in the previous year. Riddle had been handsome, clearly very clever, but unlike Bill, was very much infatuated with himself.

Shaking off these random thoughts, Harry just thought that he hoped he could be more like Bill, and less like Tom.

As they walked through the Avenue of Sphinxes, the magical portion of Luxor, Harry marveled at how different yet similar it felt to Diagon Alley. While it was clearly a place to do shopping, and he could see shop owners and shoppers talking and haggling, instead of storefronts, the avenue was lined with tents. And in front of the tents were shaded open air stalls that contained some things that Harry recognized from his trips to Diagon, and many things he didn't. He watched a small family fly by on a beautiful carpet, that seemed rather more comfortable than even his Nimbus was, cushioning charms or no. His eyes widened as he watched an Egyptian carpenter levitate a massively long table out of his tent… A tent that was way too small for that… Harry was about to ask Bill about that, but Mr. Granger had beaten him to the punch.

"Bill, are those tents there… Are they bigger on the inside?" asked Richard with a hint of wonder in his voice.

"Oh definitely!" replied Bill, further explaining "The vendors here move constantly all around Egypt, and those tents are rather more convenient than an actual store, but they still need to have enough space to store the supplies and stock needed to run the business. So a Space-Expansion charm serves to make the interior space much larger than you'd expect. There is a limit though, but the largest tents you might see here could house the space of a 5-story building." answered Bill congenially.

Harry saw Richard Granger nod his head in understanding, and then was puzzled when he heard Hermione's dad loudly whisper to his wife "Time and Relative Dimension in Space" to her subsequent chuckle. Harry wasn't sure what that was about… But knowing Hermione, her parents must have been really clever too… Maybe it was a science thing.

The market, which Harry learned was called a 'Suq' (the q was important, even though it sounded like a normal k, Hermione told him), was as varied as Diagon and Knockturn Alleys combined, but it was even more colorful. The tents themselves seemed brighter in the sun, and the awnings used for the stalls to provide shade were bright and inviting. Harry was passing by a little stall when he heard a little screech and turned his head to see what it was, when a little jet of flame passed not too far from his face.

"Careful there Harry, can't have you become a roasted Potter on your first day here can I?" chuckled Bill as he pulled him away from the range of the little dragons in the crates lining the stall.

"Um, yeah… No roasting please." replied Harry with a sigh of relief. He knew exactly how dangerous Dragons were, even little ones, Norbert coming to mind. Thinking about that misadventure made Harry think of how much Hagrid would love being there with them in that moment. In fact, the baby dragons reminded him of the last Weasley who was not yet there.

"Will Charlie be coming too?" Harry asked the Weasleys.

"He will, but the Portkey from Romania is scheduled for tomorrow." replied Mrs. Weasley. "I bet you'll get along well, he was a Seeker too." she added.

Shortly after, they arrived at where they would be staying and Harry couldn't help but stare.

It was one of the most beautiful houses he'd ever seen. Three stories tall, with a large balcony on the very top, and made of the same sort of white stone as the British embassy was. The house seemed like the type Petunia would dream of, and would probably give up snooping on her neighbors, if it meant she could live here.

Harry looked at Ron with a question in his eyes, but Ron looked back at him, just as puzzled.

"What a lovely home Bill!" remarked Mrs. Granger, her tone appreciative but not fawning.

"Oh, it's not really mine. The Goblins have been satisfied with my work though, so they let me borrow the house for the time you all would be here. It's too big for just myself. I have a little flat near the bank branch itself." he explained.

"How much treasure could you have possibly found for the Goblins, that they were THIS generous?!" blurted Ron.

"A fair bit, lil bruv... A fair bit." replied Bill, with a slightly mischievous look.

Ron gaped, his mouth making a fair imitation of a wide mouth frog.

Harry couldn't help himself. He snorted a bit, trying to suppress a laugh.

As the big group headed indoors, and Bill directed everyone to their rooms, Harry realized another thing. The house was also bigger on the inside. He saw the Grangers do a double take, shake their heads in disbelief, and have the same look of wonder that he knew he himself usually had when he encountered a new magic of some sort. And he was just as amazed as they were. The house still had 3 floors, but now it seemed like there were many more rooms inside than there should be. Everyone would be more than comfortable there.

After they all settled, Mrs. Weasley immediately commandeered the kitchen, and a short while later, a rather wonderful luncheon was served. How she managed to make enough food for all of them that quickly, Harry attributed to magic, and Mrs. Weasley's legendary cooking abilities.

For the rest of the afternoon, Mr. Weasley laid out some suggestions for visit locations, with all the adults having a discussion over all the details. The rest of the group all gathered in the backyard, and had an impromptu game of Quidditch. All except Hermione of course, who found a hammock shaded by a palm tree, and promptly plopped into it to read, swinging it slightly with one leg dangling.

By the time the adults sorted out all the details, it was close to supper time, and the weather had cooled enough that the cooling charms weren't needed, and the Granger/Weasley/Potter group could eat outside.

As the kids began putting the tables together, and arranging everything needed, Harry felt a firm tap on his shoulder. He turned his head, and had to look up, to see Richard Granger standing behind him, with an unreadable expression on his face. "I do believe, Mr. Potter, that you and I are overdue for a conversation… Just me and you, eh?"

Harry's brain froze… before he nodded.

"Well then, no time like the present. Let's go inside and have ourselves a moment away from the noise…" continued Mr. Granger, beckoning Harry to follow him.

His feet feeling strangely heavy, and his heart feeling like an anchor, Harry followed him into the house.

—

With everyone outside preparing the tables, and Mrs. Weasley and her volunteers finishing up the meal in the kitchen, it wasn't difficult to find a quiet corner in the living room. As they entered, Harry felt nervous. He didn't know why, but he felt… not afraid precisely… but definitely unnerved. His nervousness led him to stay standing, his eyes cast down focused on his beat up trainers, as Mr. Granger sat down on one of the single seat cushioned chairs.

"Sit, Mr. Potter." said Mr. Granger.

Harry looked up to see Mr. Granger's open palm directing Harry to the seat next to him. Mr. Granger's eyes weren't hostile. He knew very well, from Uncle Vernon and Snape, what that would look like. But they certainly were serious. There was however, another feeling in them… The sort of look he could sometimes see in Hermione's eyes. A look of warmth. It was different from hers though. If her look was a cozy blanket in winter, Mr. Granger's was a lit fireplace. Warm but one that warned of sticking your hand in there…

Harry sat down as instructed, his mind a whirl, and for the first time since he actually met Hermione's dad, he actually noticed him. Though Richard Granger was rather laid back in his demeanor, and in the past day or so that Harry had been around him, Harry only saw a very friendly and curious person, Mr. Granger's presence now was totally different. For the first time, Harry noticed how **solid** he looked. Richard was relatively tall, at 6'1, and about half as wide as Hagrid… Which was saying something as Hagrid was as wide as three normal people. He was leaning back in the chairs, his hands interlaced together, resting on his abdomen. An abdomen Harry could see had not even a shred of the extra padding Mr. Weasley had. His arms, visible in the short sleeve polo shirt he wore, looked like they were made of smoothly overlapping branches of wood covered with smooth skin, and his hands, Harry noticed for the first time, had faint scarring on them, mainly in the knuckle area.

Gathering his courage, as hard as it was, Harry plunged in.

"What did you need to talk to me about Mr. Granger?" he asked, his voice only breaking a bit at the end, his eyes fixated on Mr. Granger's hands.

A moment of silence passed, and Mr. Granger's hands separated to rest on the arm rests, forcing Harry's gaze away from them and to Mr. Granger's face as the latter leaned forward a bit.

"Well, Mr. Potter… What is it that you think I need to talk to you about?" he replied.

Harry felt uneasy, his mind racing again. Did Hermione tell her dad about her first year? About the troll? The Philosopher's Stone? The obstacles? Did her dad blame him for getting her in trouble? Or was this about the last school year? The botched polyjuice? The basilisk? Did he blame Harry for all of that? And so he said the first thing that came to his head when realized just how much danger Hermione had been in because of him… Even if Hermione forgave him, her dad might not…

"I'm so sorry Sir…" he said as he sighed helplessly, his heart sinking.

"I do believe that we established that you are not Sorry, but rather Harry Potter, no?" Mr. Granger replied with a warm chuckle that lifted Harry's heart a little.

"I mean that I apologize, Mr. Granger…" Harry said.

"What is it that you feel you need to apologize for, Mr. Potter?"

"Hermione… She's been in trouble because of me… In real danger… She got hurt."

"Hmmm, I suspected as much… The school has not been very forthcoming with details about her "lengthened stay in the hospital wing" last year" said Hermione's dad, his hands now making air quotes. "Why don't you tell me what happened exactly… And then we can discuss your role in endangering my daughter." his voice steady as steel.

"Where d'you want me to start, Sir?" asked Harry, with a note of trepidation in his voice.

"At the beginning, Mr. Potter, at the beginning." replied Mr. Granger.

And so Harry did.

He told him everything… and it was surprising to Harry how quickly he was able to summarize the events of the past two years at Hogwarts when properly motivated. Mr. Granger let him speak uninterrupted for the most part, only stopping him a few times to clarify certain points.

"Then we came back on the express, and you picked her up, and the rest you know." Harry finished.

There was a long moment of silence then, and the longer it stretched, the more nervous Harry became.

"She could have died." Mr. Granger finally said, his voice tight. Harry's eyes closed tightly, trying to prevent the feeling of guilt from overwhelming him. "And not just once… As you've laid it out, she could have died with the troll, from the baby dragon, from each of the obstacles on your way to the Philosopher's Stone, the botched Polyjuice that could have poisoned her, and the giant 100 foot poisonous petrifying snake… Did I get all those right?" Every near death experience Mr. Granger listed felt like a blow to Harry's soul… Every one a harder blow to him than any Vernon ever landed. Unlike the blows from Vernon, these blows Harry felt he deserved.

"Yes, Sir" answered Harry with a heavy heart.

"Tell me Mr. Potter… did you do everything you could to prevent her from getting into those situations?" asked Mr. Granger, now leaning fully forward, his elbows on his knees and hands clasped together.

Harry looked in his eyes, the same warm brown eyes as Hermione's, looking straight into Harry's heart.

"Every time but the troll sir… Before we became friends, I didn't defend her from the teasing, and that's why she ran to the toilets in the first place. Hermione said she forgives me… but I don't know if I deserve it." Harry answered sincerely. "I've been teased and bullied most of my life before Hogwarts, and then I let it happen to her and did nothing… "

"But you remembered her, Harry…" replied the older man, his tone now softer. "You remembered her when no one else did, not even the teachers, and did something about it."

Harry didn't know what to make of that and simply nodded.

"Do you know what every letter we ever got from Hermione has in common?" asked Mr. Granger suddenly.

"Umm, no Sir, I don't know." Harry replied, puzzled by the apparent change in the conversation.

"They all involve you. Young Mr. Weasley shows up too on occasion, but your name is in each of those letters at least several times… Why do you think that is?"

Bewildered, Harry shrugged his shoulders. How much could Hermione really have to say about him?

"I can tell you why Harry… And I hope you listen very closely to what I'm about to say."

Harry nodded, at a loss for words.

"You are her best friend Harry. The first one she's ever really had, and the one that has affected her the most. Do you understand what that means?"

Thinking about his life before Hogwarts, before Ron and Hermione, Harry thought that few people could understand that feeling the way he did.

"I understand." he said quietly.

"Good. Because from what both of you have told me, you are a good friend, and I would hate for her to lose you." said Mr. Granger, his voice now full of warmth.

Harry's eyes shot up, now wide open, a clear question in his eyes.

A deep chuckle bubbled from Mr. Granger's chest, and the sound of it soothed away all of the worry that almost consumed Harry.

"No Harry, I don't blame you for what happened… I can see it in your eyes… How much you blame yourself already… How much you care. Also, knowing my daughter, you'd have had a hard time convincing her to stay behind." he answered Harry's unspoken question.

"But there is one thing I need from you, if you want to continue being my daughter's friend, and this is non-negotiable."

"What is it Sir?"

"You can't allow yourself to be stupid ever again." he said, his command rang like struck steel.

"What?" asked Harry, not fully believing what he was hearing.

"You must not allow yourself to be stupid, rash or careless ever again when doing so would put my daughter in danger. Because if you were the one petrified, my daughter would have gone into the Chamber of Secrets, and though she is brave, would she had been as lucky as you were? Would she have been able to survive that fight with the Basilisk?" the older man continued, each question sounding like another hammer blow on metal.

"I… I don't know… She's brilliant, but I don't know…" Harry answered hurriedly.

"And if you had gone into that Chamber, and that useless teacher had succeeded in erasing your memories? If you had been crushed by the rubble in the tunnel? If the specter of that maniac succeeded in his plan, and killed you? Assuming Hermione had survived what came next and was un-petrified in time to get out… How would she feel knowing her best friends had died? What would be left of her heart?"

Harry could imagine each scenario with vivid clarity. He had been so close to dying, or losing any sense of who he was, so many times. His thoughts tumbled down the rabbit hole of his imagination, seeing Hermione's arm pierced by the Basilisk fang, venom spreading through her. Hermione's body laying unnaturally still in the rubble of the collapsed tunnel. Ron and Hermione staring blankly into space, with the same look Lockhart had on his face after his spell backfired, their personalities erased forever.

"I… I… I don't know Sir" said Harry, his lips trembling.

"You do, Harry. You do know. Because I can see how you would feel if you had lost her or Ron." said Mr. Granger more gently. "You can't protect them from everything, and they, especially Hermione, will never leave your side if the last two years are a clue, but what you can protect them from is yourself." he said with iron certainty.

"I need your promise Harry. I need your promise that whenever you can, especially when it really matters, you will be smart as well as brave. You will try to be careful, even if you are forced into a dangerous situation. I need to know that you will do the best you can to protect my daughter. It's the only way I can know that my daughter will be as safe as she can be." he finished, his ultimatum hanging in the air between them.

Harry thought about it for a few moments, his resolve hardening by the second.

"I promise." he said, his eyes flashing.

"Good. Don't disappoint me. Because you don't know how very close I am to selling off my practice, changing our names, and whisking my wife and daughter to Australia… But as long as I have your promise, I will resist the urge…"

"I won't disappoint you sir… And I wouldn't have blamed you if you did do that…"

"I know Harry, which is why we are even talking… While we are at it, you don't have to call me sir. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you'll be turning 13 soon?" at Harry's nod, he continued "In many cultures, 13 is considered the age at which you are responsible for your own decisions. The age at which a boy becomes a young man. Considering what you've been through, I feel confident in saying that you are no longer a boy. You are a man… A young one, but a man nonetheless. And men should address each other as equals. Call me Richard."

"Yes, Si... ummm, I mean Richard." replied Harry, stumbling over his words slightly.

"Very good! Now let's go and see if they still need help with setting everything up, eh? Oh, one last thing… If you need help figuring things out, especially when it comes to dangerous situations, talk to me, alright?"

"I will, Richard."

"Excellent. Now let's go and help our family, eh?"

Harry's heart swelled.

—

The conversation with Richard stuck with Harry. Through helping with supper set-up, the dinner itself (a lively affair with so many people around the table), and the post-meal clean up, Harry's train of thought would veer to what Richard demanded of him, and what Harry promised to do. After the meal, Richard had set out to make a little bonfire by hand, with no magic, a fascinated Arthur watching Richard's every move. After the blaze was nice and merry, the Grangers shared the ancient Muggle tradition of roasting marshmallows over a fire. A task that Mrs. Granger was apparently quite adept at. The atmosphere was full of laughter, joy, and sticky fingers, and Harry's mind was temporarily distracted. But as the fire wound down, and everyone was slowly dozing off with cups of warm cocoa by the fire (Ron's mug was completely empty, and a coco mustache was on his lip as his head lolled), Harry found himself sitting a bit further away from the fire, in Hermione's hammock, thinking of The Promise again.

That's what he had already named it in his head. The Promise.

"Don't be stupid. Don't be rash. Don't be reckless. Protect your friends. Protect Hermione."

Harry's 5 commandments.

He thought to himself about how often he had broken those in the past, and couldn't help but shake his head, a bit frustrated with himself.

"Harry? What's wrong?" asked a voice he dreaded hearing in that particular moment.

She sat next to him, and from the corner of his eye, he could see her face, her brow furrowed with concern. It warmed him as much as the fire did, and at the same time it worried him too.

"Oh nothing…" answered Harry, lying through his teeth.

"You've been too quiet all evening, since before supper… What's going on? Did something happen? Did someone say something to you?" asked Hermione, clearly not buying his answer.

"No, nothing bad happened. In fact, this is probably one of the nicest summer days I've ever had." he answered sincerely.

"What's got you shaking your head then?" she countered.

"Well, it's a bit hard to explain… It's complicated." he continued evading.

"I've been told that I'm rather good at 'complicated' things" she said with a slight smirk "Try me."

Harry thought about it for a few moments. He could tell she was getting a little impatient, as she started fidgeting a little.

"Your dad and I talked." he began.

She stopped fidgeting.

"WHAT?! When? How did I not notice?" she asked, slightly shocked.

"It was when you were helping Mrs. Weasley with supper… He took me aside then…" he explained, when suddenly he remembered a different promise. "I seem to remember you saying that you'd be there to 'restrain him in person' if he tried to skewer me with questions" he remarked, his tone one of faux-hurt.

"I can't believe you remember that…" she mumbled "But you're right, I did say that. I'm sorry. He's very sneaky when he wants to be... Was he terrible?"

"No, he wasn't terrible… Scary even though he wasn't trying to be though… But he was brilliant too. I can see where you get it from… But he was definitely intimidating. He needed to know some things from me." he answered.

"What did he want to know about?" said Hermione with a worried look on her face.

Noticing her concern, Harry steeled himself, before he answered.

"He wanted to know everything…"

"Everything?"

"Everything"

A pause. She draws a deep breath, and exhales.

"And how much did you tell him?"

Harry looks her in the eyes, the warmth in them very much like her father's in that moment.

"Everything."

Hermione's jaw drops.

"What'd'youmeaneverything?!" she splutters.

"Everything that's happened to us in our time at Hogwarts. Everything that's happened to you… because of me."

"WHA…?!" she starts to scream before Harry does something he's never done before, and clamps his hand over her mouth.

"Shhh" he whispers. "Please calm down".

Her frantic eyes look at him with shock, her nostrils flared with indignation.

"Please Hermione, everything's alright. Please calm down. Everyone is dozing off. No need to wake them" he begged. He didn't want anyone overhearing him.

Hermione looks into his eyes, and her breathing evens out, her eyes no longer widely frantic. She gives a nod, and he lets go.

"Harry…" she said, clearly struggling to maintain a calm tone of voice "I don't know why you felt the need to tell him everything… but now that you have, I'm afraid my parents won't ever let me come back to Hogwarts, to the Wizarding World, to y… to my friends!" her voice climbs several octaves as panic begins to set in against her will.

"No" he says calmly.

"What d'you mean, 'no'?" she hisses.

"He won't do that." he replies.

"How would you know Harry? He's not your dad!"

He flinches, and she gasps, her eyes widening again, and this time, it's her own hand clasped over her mouth.

Neither is sure of how much time has passed before she speaks again.

"I'm so sorry Harry… I didn't mean it like that" she says in a tiny voice.

Harry exhales.

"I know…" he says, his voice quiet. "You're very lucky you know…" he continues, a tone of longing evident in his words.

"I… I do know, Harry… I do. My dad loves me and mum more than anything, and right now he's probably planning our escape from Britain to Australia."

Harry's pensive look turns to a small smile. "You're definitely your dad's daughter… He's definitely thought about exactly that, but he won't do it. He promised. As long as I keep mine."

"You're serious?! He told you that?"

"Yes he did. You were right on the money, Australia was the destination."

"What promise did he force you to make?" she asked, her voice quiet again.

"He didn't force me Hermione… It was my choice to make."

"Fine. But what was it?"

"…"

"Harry…"

"If I tell you, you have to promise me something."

"How can I promise something when I don't know what the reward would be?"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Fine. What do I need to promise you?"

"That you won't use this promise to make me do things I don't want to do… You have to let me make my own decisions."

"Of course! I'd never try to force you into something!"

"Hermione… You're my friend… but you're also bossy. You push very hard sometimes."

"I'm sorry, but I just want you to do well in school! Is that really so bad?"

"Hermione… you know what I mean."

"Fine… I'll… I'll try really hard to push less. Now what did you promise my dad?"

"I promised him that I wouldn't let myself be stupid, rash or reckless again, especially if doing so puts you in danger. I also promised to protect you."

"You… wha… why? Why would you promise any of that?"

"Because, Hermione! I've failed at all of those in the last two years, and if I've learned anything from our insane years at Hogwarts, it's that I can't afford to be that way any more!" he hissed out, clearly wound up, but trying hard not to yell.

Hermione had no answer to that.

And so they sat there, in Hermione's hammock, leaned against each other for a while, both lost in their thoughts.

"So…" Hermione whispered "He promised?"

"Yes, he did." Harry whispered back.

"OK" she said with a sigh that sounded to Harry like relief.

"How much did you tell them before today?" Harry asked.

Hermione turned her head towards Harry, but didn't quite meet his eyes.

"Not everything…"

"Oh…"

"Yep… I'm in so much trouble."

* * *

A/N

I hope this update finds everyone in good health, and if not, I hope you all get better soon. I know I've been away, but maybe this time, I don't need to explain why :)

Either way, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. To be quite honest, it was quite cathartic to write. I hope you all enjoy reading it.

I'd like to think that my characterizations have become more solid over time, but I would really appreciate any feedback.

And for those of you who are waiting for the action to start...We're almost there.


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